BORKMAN. Yes, it is. And it would be of no use either if I should resign myself to wither away in abject penitence. I have tried to feed myself upon hopes and dreams, all through these years. But I am not the man to be content with that; and now I mean to have done with dreaming.
ERHART.
[With a slight bow.] And what will—what will you do, sir?
BORKMAN. I will work out my own redemption, that is what I will do. I will begin at the bottom again. It is only through his present and his future that a man can atone for his past. Through work, indefatigable work, for all that, in my youth, seemed to give life its meaning—and that now seems a thousand times greater than it did then. Erhart, will you join with me and help me in this new life?
MRS. BORKMAN.
[Raising her hand warningly.] Do not do it, Erhart!
ELLA RENTHEIM.
[Warmly.] Yes, yes do it! Oh, help him, Erhart!
MRS. BORKMAN.
And you advise him to do that? You, the lonely dying woman.
ELLA RENTHEIM.
I don't care about myself.
MRS. BORKMAN.
No, so long as it is not I that take him from you.
ELLA RENTHEIM.
Precisely so, Gunhild.
BORKMAN.
Will you, Erhart?